We're Sick Like Animals
by loki-god-of-sexiness
Summary: All they had left was each other and yet... sometimes that wasn't enough. (Features pseudo-incest and if you aren't okay with that, then I wouldn't recommend this fic.)


**A/N: **Thor's like 17 in this part and there might be underage later.

Loki was thirteen when he stitched his first wound.

The night was cool; a blessed break from the humidity that clouded the day. Outside the window he could hear crickets chirping and the rustle of unknown animals creeping through the grass. The sound kept him awake until his eyes were drooping with the weight of sleep and his mind fogged into oblivion. His hand curled subconsciously around a tattered blue shirt he'd had with him since he was old enough to remember. The bed beneath him was worn, but it was all he had known to be comfortable. It was enough for him. A deathly silence fell over the metal trailer yet he hardly noticed as he slipped into dreams.

A loud banging woke him up and he shot out of bed with wide eyes, hand darting under his pillow and searching over the sheets until he found his knife his brother had stolen for him on his birthday last summer. From the corner of the room, someone coughed. It was a pained sound; soon followed by groaning and a thump.

"Loki…" the voice of someone more familiar to him than himself spoke up before breaking off into another groan.

The boy drew a sigh of relief, but didn't toss the knife aside. He slipped it into his pocket and crept over to the hunched figure on careful feet.

As the body came into view, relief was quickly replaced by panic.

Thor was slumped against the kitchen cabinet, its wood stained red from where he was sitting. His hand was clamped over his side and in the moonlight; Loki could see something sticky covering his hands. It made his stomach turn to think of what the liquid was, so he ignored it and knelt down by his brother. He brought his own, paler hand to his brother's face and cupped his jaw with trepidation.

"What happened?" Loki's voice was a whisper, but it was filled with worry as he glanced outside, almost expecting danger to barge through their door. With his free hand, he pushed the screen door closed and locked it. It wouldn't help much, a hole cut into the screen from years of wear, but it made him feel more secure.

Thor shook his head, not answering his brother's question. Loki knew. It wasn't as if they hadn't expected something like this. It was what shaped their world; what drove them to keep living.

"Fuck… the- the-" He seemed to be struggling with what he was trying to say while the hand not clutching at his side waved wildly towards the kitchen, his face pale and eyebrows knit together. Loki nodded, his heart thudding in his chest uncomfortably as he stood.

He had to stand on his toes to reach the cabinet and swallowed past bile when he pulled down the white, plastic box. Faded red letters still clung to the surface. The "d" in aid had long ago worn away, but Loki knew what it said. All of what used to be left of it had disappeared over the years, but they kept collecting. They could never be too careful. It turned out they were right.

Loki knew what to do. Thor had him practice it a million times on dead animals. But there was something different about it when he had to look down into pained blue eyes and the sickening pile of blood (blood, it was blood) pooling around his waist. Glancing away from Thor's eyes, he set the container on the counter and picked up the nearest shirt on the floor; his own green one that had seen better days. He couldn't afford to lose it, but neither could he afford to lose Thor. He bent down to dip it in the bucket of water on the kitchen tile and set it down for a moment while he dug around in another cabinet he could thankfully reach for a bottle of alcohol. The label had faded off ages ago; even before they had found it at an abandoned gas station several miles away from their home.

Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that it would be fine. Thor would be fine. All he had to do was clean the wound, stitch it up, and then force the blonde into bed for the next week while Loki went out and did the hunting. It didn't matter that he hadn't done it on his own before.

He gathered the alcohol, shirt, and kit in his hands before getting on his knees before his brother again.

"You know what to do, don't you? God, Loki, you had better-" Loki cut him off with a nod.

"I know. I think." Thor didn't look too reassured by that and Loki couldn't blame him. "Just… just stay calm and…" he trailed off, looking around a moment before reaching up with one hand to grab a wooden spoon sitting on the counter, "bite on this." He handed the spoon to his brother who took it warily and did, for once, as he was told.

Loki batted Thor's hand away from his wound and lifted at the blood stained shirt. Thor grimaced and winced at the friction against the wound and Loki drew a sharp intake of breath at the sight of it. A slash went from his ribcage down to his hipbone and it looked deep. Not all the way down to the bone, thank God, but it couldn't go untended or else it would be infected. Taking the wadded up shirt with water still dripping down the sides, he dabbed at the cut gingerly. Thor still squirmed away from him and Loki had to settle a hand against his shoulder to get him to stay still while he cleaned the wound. After a moment's debate, Loki handed his brother the bottle of alcohol. Thor stared at the bottle before taking the spoon out of his mouth for the moment. He unscrewed the lid with one hand and tipped it back. Loki glanced up to see him nearly draining it and reached up to bring the bottle back down.

"I'm going to need that for your cut too. It's the only bottle we have and I'm not letting you waste it on getting drunk." His words were biting and accompanied with a glare but they derived from stress and logic. What an odd combination. The older boy scowled.

"Fine." The spoon was back in his mouth.

Loki took the bottle and poured some of the alcohol over the wound with a wince of sympathy. Thor squirmed, biting down on the spoon as he tried to wriggle away from his brother yet again. Loki just tightened his grip.

After many warning glares from the younger and grunts from the other, he had it cleaned off with blood trickling sluggishly to the side. Closing his eyes for a moment and taking another deep breath, he reached for the first aid kit and popped open the lid. He finally opened his eyes to find a needle and thread and Thor gave a barely audible whimper at the sight of it.

But he put the spoon back in his mouth while Loki finished tying the end of the thread. He stared at Thor for a minute, fear twisting his gut. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to his sweat-soaked temple; as Thor had for his younger brother many times in their lives. For a moment, he let himself breathe in the familiar scent of his brother before he moved away again.

With a prayer shot up to a god he didn't believe in, Loki started to stitch the wound up. The needle slid under Thor's skin with protest and his blue eyes went wide, his hand gripping at Loki's shoulder while he bit down hard on the wooden spoon. At the pressure on his shoulder, Loki grimaced. But it couldn't be as bad as what he was doing to Thor, so he allowed it. Without much hesitation this time, the younger brother began threading the needle over the wound until he reached the end. Tears were staining Thor's cheeks and his face was red; his grip punishing on Loki's shoulder. With a silent apology, Loki dug around in his pocket for his knife and lined the thread up with edge. He slashed up and pulled the spool away, tying a knot into the end of the thread on Thor's side.

It was over. He had fixed his brother, and it was over. Well, almost. Once again, he brought the now bloody wash cloth to the wound and cleaned it off. Thor looked ready to pass out by the time Loki had found the gauze. He sighed and pressed another kiss to his forehead before looping an arm around his waist to lift him enough to pass the gauze behind Thor and start wrapping it around the wounded area.

"Sorry," the boy muttered, looking into Thor's fogged eyes with a small, shaky smile. For a moment, it looked like his brother would respond. Maybe something along the lines of telling him he was proud of him. Maybe thank you. But instead, he looked at Loki with something bordering on recognition before he fell forward onto his younger brother's shoulder.

Loki sighed, cutting off the gauze with his knife and running his fingers through sticky blonde hair. They could clean in the morning. His hands were still shaking as he stood, hauling the deadweight of Thor with him and dragging him towards their bed.

By the time he set Thor down on the mattress, Loki's breathing was labored and he placed his hands on his knees, bending to catch his breath. He had never thought himself out of shape, that was impossible in this world, but in comparison to his brother, everyone was. After his breathing steadied, he rolled Thor over onto his uninjured side and climbed into bed next to him, throwing the blanket over the both of them. A long time ago, he had heard that these sorts of wounds required warmth. The night was already humid, but he thought any extra heat wouldn't do any harm. Or at least, he tried to tell himself that and that it wasn't only himself needing comfort.

Thor had lost blood. That much was obvious, even if his current state didn't point to that. There was nowhere he knew of to get any more. And if he did somehow managed to smuggle it off someone, it would have to be the right blood type and hell, Loki didn't even know how to get blood into a body. Then again, that might not be the problem. It could have been pain or shock or…

Loki groaned, flinging his arm over his eyes. If Thor had told him what to do if this happened, if he hadn't thought he was invincible, Loki wouldn't have to be worrying over this right now. He wouldn't have to fear his brother's death. Damn him. Just… damn him. Once the idiot woke up, Loki would be having strong words with him.

He rolled over on his side, looking at his brother. God, what would he do without him? He had almost lost him. If Loki hadn't heard him, if he had gone outside to take a piss, he wouldn't have Thor here. He could have died. The thought turned Loki's stomach and he buried his face against Thor's shoulder as tears finally spilled over onto his cheeks. He curled against the blonde, his arm winding around his shoulder so he wouldn't damage the wound anymore than it was. Thor was still breathing. He was fine. And so was Loki.

Eventually, he fell asleep wrapped around his brother with tears dried on his face. It went unnoticed when his hold was returned and the body next to him shifted to cover him protectively with murmured apologies.

The sun shone through the cracks in the window; birds singing a happy tune for the new day. Loki woke to his arm burning in the sun. He scowled, blinking his eyes open and yanking his arm away from the path of the light. He rolled onto his back, running a hand through his dark hair. He brought his hand in front of him, red and brown splatters going up to his wrist. Once again, the sight made him sick and he nearly bent over the side of the bed to empty his stomach. But he took a deep breath and squashed the urge, sitting up in bed and looking over at his sleeping brother.

Sleeping.

Although Loki knew he was being ridiculous and overprotective, he bent over to put his ear next to Thor's mouth and breathed a deep sigh of relief when he felt breath on his ear.

He ran a hand through his own hair and let his eyes slip shut for a moment before unfolding his legs from under him. They dangled over the edge of the bed, his ankles hitting the raised wooden platform supporting it. He rubbed at his eyes with a yawn before standing. For a moment, he wobbled precariously then padded his way over linoleum to reach the bucket of water. He knelt down in front of it, barely noticing a dull pain shooting through his knees at the impact and blinked tiredly a few times before dipping his hands into the cold water and scrubbing at them until the rust colored blood had washed off completely. Loki's forearms thudded onto the plastic rim of the bucket, his elbows jutting to the sides and his wrists crossed and hanging off of the edge. His head dropped to hang between them, the side of his head resting against his right arm. Green eyes closed again while his heart pounded in his chest; the previous night finally catching up to him.

The sound of sheets hitting the mattress registered dully, as well as a grunt of pain and heavy feet settling on the floor, until a warm palm settled on his shoulder. Loki didn't bother moving himself for the moment, just let Thor pull him back until he was settled between his legs and carefully maneuvered so he didn't accidently bump against the blonde's side. A nose nuzzled against his dark hair a strong arm wrapped around his middle while the other rubbed soothing circles into his shoulder.

Part of Loki thought it should be the opposite of this. He hadn't been the one stabbed. He hadn't been bleeding on the floor or unconscious.

For half an hour they sat like that, the only sound being Thor shifting so his arm on Loki's shoulder could join the other and resting his chin on his little brother's head, the shrill ringing that came with silence, and the muted chirping of birds outside.

"Are you alright?" Thor finally broke the silence, tilting his head to look at Loki, blonde hair falling to the side of his face pinched in concern.

Loki snorted. "Am I alright? I thought I was supposed to be asking you that." Thor shrugged, his grip loosening a bit.

"If you are fine enough to be bratty, then my question is answered." He shook his head. "I will be fine, Loki. It was only a stab wound. All of my organs are perfectly intact and I didn't lose much blood."

That's certainly not what it looked like last night, Loki thought. He chalked it up to either nerves or Thor simply trying to comfort him.

"You need to be more careful," the younger muttered after a moment's hesitation, his fingers playing with the ends of his tattered shirt he had used as a washcloth. "Sure, you're fine this time but…" he trailed off. "Just don't keep doing stupid shit, alright? You're going to get yourself killed."

"God, you sound like Mom." There was fondness and longing in Thor's voice and Loki wished he could share it. He didn't remember their mother. Thor had told him she was soft. Loving. She had hair of gold like her eldest son and apparently made the best chocolate chip cookies like every good mother should. Hell, Loki didn't even know what those tasted like. He had missed out on a childhood. Thor had tucked him in at nights, held him after nightmares, and picked him up when he had fallen and scratched himself. He never had a mother, and though he knew the blonde tried to raise him, it wasn't the same. Sometimes he wished he had family more than Thor. A dad to give him meaningful life advice. Maybe an uncle or aunt to take him to the zoo. Grandparents to sneak him treats behind his parents' backs.

Loki's brows furrowed but didn't comment on the matter, instead twisting out of his brother's grip, still being careful to avoid his wound. He twisted to meet Thor's blue eyes with his own, kneeling between his brother's thighs.

"I'm serious, Thor. You need to take care of yourself. You can't just… be so careless anymore." I can't lose you.

Thor looked like he was about to retort before he took in Loki's expression and his features softened, his arm reaching out to tuck of Loki's hair behind his ear.

"I know." He leaned their foreheads together, closing his eyes. "I know," his voice was quieter this time. Thor's hand reached up to grasp the back of Loki's neck in a familiar. His thumb rubbed in circles against his skin and Loki leaned into the touch with a sigh.

There were a few moments of silence before Loki cracked an eye open and leaned forward until their lips were almost brushing. But he thought better of it and pulled away again, his head falling away from Thor's. It had been an instinct and nothing more. A familial gesture that was frowned on by the time they were that age. Yet he could ignore it. Thor was fine and he had promised to be careful. That was all that mattered.

Thor opened his eyes with a curious look. Loki prayed he hadn't noticed the previous contact, or at least wouldn't mention it. One of his requests was answered, which one he wasn't sure, and Thor dropped his hand from the back of his neck with a small smile.

"Come on then. I think we still have at least some elk left." The blonde pulled himself to his feet with a wince before extending his hand to the smaller boy.

After a moment, considering, Loki grasped his hand and pulled himself up to stand next to him.

"We're running out, aren't we? Let me hunt by myself this time," he demanded more than requested. Thor reached down to ruffle his hair.

"Alright."

Loki grinned, brushing past Thor to push open the screen door and jog over to the cooler resting on a rusty picnic bench. He propped it open and dug around to find the meat wrapped in cloth. They always had to eat it quickly before it rotted, though some was saved back and dried to make rough jerky. There wasn't much variety, but it kept them alive. He grasped it and pulled it out, shutting the lid and heading back towards the trailer.

He popped his head inside the screen door. "I know you're in mortal peril, but could you start the fire?" Loki asked of his brother with a raised brow. Thor was cleaning off his wound again and looked up at Loki's voice. He nodded distractedly, rewrapping his waist and tossing the wet rag back into the bucket.

Loki disappeared out the door again to sit on the top of the bench, his legs swinging as he waited for Thor to come out and start the fire.

His brother ambled out a few minutes later and got to work on the fire. Once there was a steady plume of smoke rising in the air, Loki hauled himself off of the table and went to find a stick. He stabbed it through the end of the meat with a grimace and handed it over to Thor, who took it and mounted it on the two sticks stuck in the ground to suspend the meat over the fire. They took turns watching over it and turning it on the stick before they deemed it edible and took it down.

Loki cut it up into two pieces for the both of them and reached for a smaller stick to skewer his own on.

As they sat near the fire, eating elk meat in silence, Loki could believe that he enjoyed this. He smiled to himself as he bit into the juicy food.


End file.
